


What shall we do with a pining Theon?

by kitkatkaylie



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate universe: Pirates, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pirate!Theon, Pirates, Protective Robb Stark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24200809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkatkaylie/pseuds/kitkatkaylie
Summary: When Captain Theon of the Dread Ship Smiler captures a merchant and his sister he did not expect to gain anything more than a generous bounty, little did he know he would fall for them both.And all the while the Flaying Dutchman patrols the waters looking for its next victims...
Relationships: Satin Flowers/Jon Snow, Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark, Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark
Comments: 7
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

Theon did so love the recent boom in trading, it made his life so much easier and more profitable with fat merchant ships lazily meandering from port to port.

They were rich pickings, and rarely heavily guarded, they were the best sort of prey: easy.

He grinned at his first mate, a pretty lad with the most ridiculous name he had ever heard, and lowered his eyeglass.

“Looks like it’s payday lads!” He called out, and his crew yelled back their celebration.

“The usual plan Captain?” Satin asked, a grin playing around his own mouth.

“Why change the habit of a lifetime?” Theon put his hand on his cutlass and pasted on his most rakish grin. “Hoist the colours and prepare for battle! Let’s see how lily-livered these spoiled merchants really are!” 

* * *

It was as short and easy a battle as Theon had thought it would be. They had barely hoisted the colours before the merchant ship had surrendered, evidently this was a captain who cared more for the lives of his crew than his cargo.

The crew had been lined up on the deck, and any man who wished to join his crew would be allowed. Those who didn’t could go free, minus their cargo of course.

Theon wandered up the line, past the surprisingly well cared for crew. He stopped dead at one man, a handsome man clad in a grey silk coat with red hair that glinted in the sun.

“And what might your name be?” He peered down at the man, tipping his chin up with the tip of his cutlass.

The man looked up at him with the bluest eyes Theon had seen, “Robb Stark. This is my ship, the _Grey-Wind_.”

“Stark? Not the son of Ned Stark, one of the most influential merchants and politicians on both sides of the Atlantic?”

The red haired man nodded reluctantly, “Aye. Ned Stark is my father. My mother is Catelyn Tully.”

The name Tully caused more than one of Theon’s crew to recoil, the Tully family had been the scourge of pirates for years. 

Theon did not recoil, instead he tilted Robb Stark’s chin a little further.

“Well I bet mummy and daddy will pay an excellent price to get you back. You’ll be coming with me.”

The sound of a clash turned him away from the little lordling, towards the doors leading to the cabins.

“Unhand me you wretch!” The most beautiful woman Theon had ever seen wrenched her arm out of a bemused Satin’s grasp as he escorted her on deck.

She straightened her shoulders and blue silk skirts, and looked down her nose at them all and Theon was not at all ashamed that his breeches tightened a little in response to that cold blue gaze.

“Good morrow, my lady.” Theon swept into an ostentatious bow, “Might I know the name that goes with such a beautiful face?”

“My name is Sansa Stark.” The lady announced coldly, “And now please tell me what the  _fuck_ you are doing on my brother’s ship?”

* * *

Robb regretted his offer to Sansa to take her on the trading voyage with him. It was supposed to be a safe and relatively quick trip, a mere hop across the Atlantic to bring silks and silver to their Uncle’s branch of their company in the Caribbean. It would be a chance for them to spend time together, a chance for her to see the world a little outside of their family home in York and trips to Bath and London. A last hurrah before her wedding to Joffrey Baratheon, an unofficial joining of their respective companies.

He should have taken her to Vienna or Paris instead, somewhere free of pirates.

They had been separated on the pirate ship, with Sansa dragged off to somewhere Robb could not see her. His mind swirled with all the terrible things that could be happening to her.

“I do hope you will enjoy your stay aboard the  _ Smiler _ , Mr Stark.” The Captain smirked, “We can be most hospitable.”

Robb flares up at him, “Touch my sister or my men, Pirate, and I’ll rip your balls off and feed them to you.”

The pirate’s smirk turned into a grin, “Tut tut, we don’t speak like that on my ship little lordling. Looks like you might need a trip to the brig until you can behave.”

Robb’s arms were wrenched behind his back painfully by a burly man who stank of rum.

“Better be nice to the Captain, boy. Else it’ll be an unpleasant trip for you.” 

Robb resisted the urge to spit at him, be nice to a pirate? That was preposterous! 

Even if he had to admit the Captain was rather easy on the eyes. 

* * *

Sansa levelled a glare at the pirate who had come to collect her from the cabin in which she was being held. It was a glare that would send her siblings running for the hills, in fear of what she would enact on them.

She was pleased to see that it caused him to flinch, it was reassuring to know she could still inspire fear when necessary.

“Captain Theon wants you to join him for dinner, my lady.” The pirate awkwardly offered an elbow, as those he expected her to take it.

Sansa swept past him cooly, she would not be escorted anywhere on the arm of a man who clearly had not bathed for weeks.

She stalked down the corridor, as though it was a palace rather than a pirate ship, and smothered the smile that wanted to escape at the sound of the pirate scurrying after her. She would find out what had happened to her brother and would not fall for the so called ‘charm’ of the pirate captain.

“Ah, Miss Stark, it is a pleasure to see you again.” The captain went into a flourishing bow again. “Please, take a seat while we wait for our last dinner guest.”

Sansa sat in the chair that the captain pulled out for her, just as it would not do to fall for the captain so it would not do to insult him. 

The table before her was spread with quite the range of foods; various sorts of fish, fruits preserved in syrup, pease, even a roast bird of some sort. It was the sort of spread that even she and Robb would not dine upon on their own ship, not unless it was a very special occasion.

She ran an appraising eye around the cabin of the captain, at the golden krakens on the wall, the silk scarves and coats flung over stuffed chairs, and a fainting lounge against one wall, the golden lions and red upholstery of it telling her whose ship he might have stolen it from. 

It was elaborate and gaudy, and yet somehow still slightly tasteful. Sansa was begrudgingly impressed by how he had managed to make it as such, begrudgingly impressed that it almost seemed like a lounge she would have seen in Bath rather than a ship in the Caribbean.

The door opened once more, and her brother was pushed into the room, his escort not as kind as her own. It seemed that where he was being held was also not as kind, for his coat was crumpled and his face dirty. 

“Ahh, Mr Stark. I’m sorry for the state of your living quarters but you must understand that my men took offence to your threats.”

Robb snarled at the pirate, but took the chair that was offered without complaint. Sansa could see in his eyes just how angered he was by the whole situation, and how amazed he was by the spread before them.

The captain threw himself into his own chair and gestured widely, “Well let’s not stand on ceremony! Eat, drink!”

He piled food high onto his own plate and gestured at them until they too put food on the plates before them. 

Sansa ate delicately, her manners ingrained and always appropriate. Her mother had been form on that, whether it was in the Assembly Rooms of Bath or sat in the cabin of a pirate Captain, there was no excuse for poor table manners. 

She smiled politely as the Captain talked at them, his actions consistently exuberant and almost charming in their own way. 

It was not until they had finished eating and were sat with a glass of port each that the Captain said anything of true note however. 

“A gift for you, Miss Stark.” Captain Theon held out a paper parcel with yet another flourish.

Sansa took the parcel and gently removed the paper, an elaborate nightgown was revealed, frothy lace at the neckline and cuffs, and blue ribbons at the hem. 

Robb growled at the sight, protective of her as always.

“I know just how uncomfortable it can be to wear stays to bed, and would not have you crumple your fine dress so.” The captain said, with surprisingly earnest eyes. “I would also offer you this, so that you may feel secure through the night.”

He offered her an iron key, one which looked like it would fit the lock of the door to the cabin she was being kept in.

“I thank you, Captain Theon.” Sansa said gravely, and truly she did. It was a relief to know that she would not be visited in the night by members of the pirate’s crew.

Robb looked relieved as well, and Sansa just knew he had been worried for her and her virtue.

“And as for you, Mr Stark, if you swear on your honour to behave then I’m sure we can find you somewhere which is not the brig to live. Perhaps with your lovely sister?”

Robb bristled at the Captain’s words, at the friendly tone he used, but settled down when Sansa looked at him with their mother’s look. The one that said he had better do as he’s told or she won’t be held responsible for the consequences.

“I will swear it,” Robb finally said, “Provided you swear no harm will come to my sister.”

The Pirate let out a laugh, “Of course no harm shall come to you sister under my watch! I am a man of honour, you know.”

Sansa his her smile as Robb levelled the captain with an unimpressed look.

“You’re a pirate.”

“An honourable pirate! Not like Ramsay Bolton and his ilk!” Captain Theon seemed very offended by Robb’s words, as though there was no greater insult.

“Perhaps, Captain, you might forgive my brother his protective manner.” Sansa said in her most charming tone, “It is the prerogative of older siblings to defend their younger after all.”

The Pirate nodded, “Well said Miss Stark, well said. There is an easy solution of course to your defence of your sister’s virtue. You shall share a cabin. Then, Mr Stark, you can be assured Miss Stark is untouched by anyone she does not wish to touch her.”

Robb nodded, a short sharp nod that still conveyed how unhappy he was with the the entire situation.

“Fine. I swear I shall cause no harm to anyone aboard your ship, provided they do not attack myself and my sister first.”

The pirate held out his hand and Robb shook it, a gentleman’s agreement formed between them. 

With that business dealt with and the night drawing close the Captain called for them to be returned to Sansa’s cabin. It was a pretty man who took them, the same one who had found Sansa below decks on the Grey-Wind. 

“Captain Theon’s a good sort.” He chattered as he escorted them back through the corridors, “More honourable and kinder than most. He’ll let you go unharmed, as soon as your parents pay the ransom.”

Robb grunted in response, obviously still sore over their capture in the first place, but Sansa smiled charmingly and prodded him for more information about the Captain, the ship, and the crew.

The pirate, Satin his name was, happily answered her questions, seemingly not realising quite how much information he was giving up. It was a common reaction though in response to her pretty face, so Sansa did not fault him for it.

Robb looked around her cabin with a critical eye once they were shut in and threw himself onto the single wooden chair.

“I can’t believe we got bested by a pirate! And now I can’t even cause trouble for him. We’ve just got to sit and wait for a rescue, Arya’s never going to let us live this down.” He complained. 

“Oh Robb,” Sansa smiled slightly pityingly, “Do you not see? He made you promise to behave, but I made no such deal.” 

Robb’s face split into a wide grin, he knew more than anyone just how vexing Sansa could be when she put her mind to it


	2. Chapter 2

With the promise he had extracted from Robb the pirate had given them free range of the ship. His only insistence was that they join him for each meal, which was no really hardship as his food was vastly better than the hardtack Sansa had seen the other members of the crew eating.

In a strange way the Captain was good company, he was well travelled and well educated, and able to hold all sorts of conversations. Under any other circumstances Sansa likely would have been enamoured by him.

It certainly seemed like Robb was, once his wounded pride had healed and his protective manner softened he had started talking with the captain, the same expression on his face as he had worn when talking to Jeyne Westerling or Talisa Maegyr.

It was an expression that Sansa wanted to keep on his face, one which made her smile. It was nice to see him looking less stressed than usual, even when they were captured by a pirate. It seemed like being a captive had offered him a sort of strange freedom, a freedom from the sort of responsibility he was usually under.

Sansa did not spend a huge deal of time with the Captain outside of meal times, she thought her time was more valuable trying to determine which of the crew might aid them. 

It seemed like the First Mate, that Satin was most open to conversation with her. He would speak with her whenever his duties permitted, and was an excellent source of gossip. 

Sansa had insisted that she help with the mending that needed doing, had fought with Satin until he capitulated. She did not do well sat with nothing to do, and it would be an easy way to worm herself into the hearts of the crew.

If the crew thought fondly of her it would be much easier to get them to agree to her ideas and plans. 

When she had mentioned this plan of hers to Robb he had had a minor existential crisis as so many moments from their childhood suddenly made sense, as the way she had always seemed to get her way suddenly made sense.

“Miss Stark, might I accompany you for a walk around the deck?” Satin offered an arm to her. 

Sansa took it, a little fresh air would be pleasant.

“Thank you Satin. I wanted to ask you a question, about your captain.”

Satin smiled at her, “If I can answer it then I will.”

Sansa smiled back, “Your Captain, is he more fond of the sword or the sheath? I know it is indelicate to ask but I find myself curious.”

“Captain Theon is fond of both, Miss Stark. He is not particularly discerning in his tastes.” Satin laughed lightly.

That was excellent news. It meant Robb actually stood a chance for once. 

“I understand.” Sansa said as though sharing a deep secret, “My brother is much the same.” 

Something lit up in Satin’s eyes and Sansa wondered just what else he knew. 

* * *

There was a very high chance Theon would be thrown over the side of his own ship by his first mate if he did not keep pining over his captives to him.

In Theon’s defence, both Stark siblings were unfairly attractive, with faces like angels and hair like flames.

It was almost enough to spark regret, and if their beauty drove him mad before their ransom arrived it certainly would spark regret. Not least because Satin would throw him overboard if he stumbled drunk into his cabin at the early hours of the morning pining over them again.

He couldn’t help it though, Robb was handsome and funny and smart, while Sansa was witty and beautiful and so intelligent it made his head hurt. They possibly could have punched him and he would have thanked them.

And it was a Problem.

Robb had picked up on his feelings for Sansa, was incredibly protective of her. And Theon would almost be insulted, if he did not recall the overprotective ways of Asha from his teenage ways.

The two of them had never had a typical brother/sister relationship with Asha always being far more protective of him than he was of her.

“Captain,” Satin jolted Theon from his thoughts over the Starks, “The crew picked up some rumours you will be interested in while in Port.”

“What is it?” Theon turned to Satin, any news his first mate thought was important likely was.

“Bolton’s been sighted again. The Flaying Dutchman was spotted near Tortuga.”

A bolt of cold went down Theon’s spine. Bolton was feared by all who sailed the seas, his methods were brutal and he never left a quarter, merely sent the ships to float along buffeted by the tides and crewed by flayed corpses.

“Shit.”

“Indeed.” Satin smirked wryly. “So soon enough we’re going to have the Navy and Bolton after us. That’s going to be fun.”

Theon groaned, “That’s just what I need. Fuck. Why me? What have I done to deserve this?”

Satin opened his mouth to answer, probably with a real example from one of their many escapades, almost certainly the time he managed to lace their water supply with something that had made them all hallucinate a kraken. That had been an eventful week.

“Fuck.” Theon leaned his head against the wall, “Fuck.”

“At least you aren’t going to have to worry about making a move on the Starks if Bolton gets you.” Satin offered in a faux comforting tone.

“Very helpful Satin. Thanks.”

Satin grinned cheekily, “I do try.”

* * *

Jon had been excited to see his cousins again, as much as he enjoyed his work hunting down pirates and making the seas safe he did miss the cousins he had grown up with. And then the _Grey-Wind_ had come into Port Royal, bereft of its cargo and bereft of his cousins.

Those crew members he had questioned had all claimed that they were attacked by a gentleman, one with a kraken on his sails and coat.

Jon’s fist clenched when he heard it, there was only one pirate who fitted that description. A pirate who evaded his every move: Captain Theon Greyjoy.

He had spent years trying to bring this pirate in, but he always managed to escape at the last minute. They played a game of cat and mouse across the whole Caribbean and now it seemed like the latest move in their game was the kidnapping of Jon’s cousins. He would not stand for this. 

As soon as was appropriate to leave, Jon rushed to his commanding officer’s office. Admiral Mormont had been his commanding officer since Jon was a fresh faced officer and Mormont was Captain of the ship. They had risen through the rank together, or so it seemed, with Mormont taking Jon under his wing. 

“Jon, how are you my boy?” Mormont was a cheerful sort of you caught him at the right time, “Any news on your cousins?”

Jon couldn’t even bring himself to smile politely, “It’s both good and bad news I’m afraid. All witnesses point to them being taken by Theon Greyjoy.”

Mormont’s face grew understanding, “I see. Well at least Greyjoy is the honourable sort. He won’t harm them. I’m assuming you want to go after him?” 

Jon nodded, “I might finally be able to bring him in sir. And I don’t think I could look either of my uncle’s in the eye if I did not do all I could to bring my cousins safely home.”

Mormont grabbed some paper and his quill, “Well then, you’ll need a warrant to bring him in. And I’ll send word to have the  _ Nights Watch  _ prepared for your use.”

He offered out a hastily written warrant, stamped and signed and Jon felt a burst of love for the man. He knew that many superior officers would not be so understanding, so helpful, he was lucky to have Mormont. Jon took the warrant and Mormont’s blessings and went to ensure his ship was prepared to his standards. 

He would not let Greyjoy escape again. 


	3. Chapter 3

Robb determinedly Did Not like the pirate who had captured them. Sure he was charming and handsome and witty, but that did not mean he liked him.

It just meant he had to be extra careful to defend Sansa’s virtue from him. Because if this Captain Theon looked and acted like that then he was definitely Sansa’s type, and he would have an easy time seducing here.

Robb would not let that happen.

His mother and father would never forgive him if he let Sansa be seduced by a pirate of all things, even one as dashing and handsome as the Captain of the  _ Smiler _ . 

And Theon Greyjoy was handsome and dashing, with a strange sort of kindness all his own.

He was exactly the sort of man that Sansa would fall for. Exactly the sort of man that Robb found himself thinking fondly of, a man that sparked some heavy feeling in his stomach. 

He tried to ignore that feeling though, it was not like anything would come of it. 

* * *

Jon was slightly ashamed of the sheer number of disreputable contacts he had. They were useful, and yet so many of them should have been punished for their crimes rather than allowed to roam free in exchange for information.

Davos was the least offensive of them all, a smuggler by trade but almost fatherly in his own way. He was as honest a criminal as they came, and was the only one of the contacts Jon had who he felt safe with even in his wig and blue coat. 

“Aye lad, I saw Greyjoy.” Davos took a drink and levelled Jon a long look, “His crew said they were heading to Tortuga. The one I spoke to, mentioned that they had guests on board, that the captain was rather enamoured with them. I suppose they are who you are looking for?”

Jon nodded, “Aye, my cousins.”

Sympathy filled Davos’ eyes, “So this is even more personal than usual for you then. Greyjoy won’t hurt them. He isn’t like the rest of his family.”

Jon sighed, “I know, but my cousin Sansa is said to be one of the fairest ladies in the Empire, and my other cousin is rather hot headed. I have reason to be concerned about them being left alone with a pirate of dubious morality, even if he is better than his family.”

Davos winced, “And I assume your aunt is likely having kittens as well?”

“She does not know yet, they are still in England. I assume we will hear the scream of rage from here though, and then Greyjoy will have much worse than me to worry about. My aunt is a Tully, the Blackfish is her uncle.”

Davos finished his drink and patted Jon hard on the shoulder, “I’ll let you know if I see anything. And pass my love on to Admiral Baratheon will you? He needs to smile more.”

Jon raised a hand in goodbye, but did not really focus on it. He was much too confused by the thought of there being any type of friendship between Davos-the-smuggler and the notoriously just Admiral Stannis Baratheon. 

* * *

Tortuga always stank of rum and shit and good times. It was one of Theon’s favourite places in the world, a place which held many excellent memories.

It was also the type of place where Robb Stark had never been to in his privileged life.

Theon had brought him with him on his venture off ship, it had been Satin’s suggestion, and a good one too. There was no where for Robb to run on the island and hopefully it would soften him up a bit.

Satin had used much cruder language than that, he was evidently sick of Theon’s pining.

Theon knew Satin was just waiting for a man to pine over himself so that he could get revenge for all Theon’s moping. It was something he both looked forward to and dreaded.

Robb had borrowed one of Theon’s coats for the excursion, one of his less ostentatious ones, with minimal gold brocade and embroidery. It did not matter that it was a simpler coat, Theon still found him unfairly attractive in his clothes. It was all he could do not to jump him there and then. 

Likely the only way he would have found Robb more attractive was in the heat of battle or in nothing at all. He did not dwell on that though, it would not do to walk around Tortuga with proof of his attraction, especially not when it would hardly make Stark look on him fondly. 

Satin had remained behind on the ship, but had given him instructions of what to buy. Some moments his first mate was more like a mother than a man under his command, but Theon did not mind it. 

He would not have thought to buy some muslin, so that Sansa could have a second dress, nor would he have remembered to buy the pickled lemons that kept his crew free of scurvy without such a reminder. 

They had purchased the items, with Robb looking both sceptical and thankful for the fabric for Sansa. Theon tried not to be offended by the implication that he had ulterior motives for purchasing her a gift, not when he technically did have ulterior motives. Anything that would make them look more kindly upon him was a definite bonus.

Once the items were sent to the ship he dragged Robb into the best tavern in the whole of Tortuga, one run by the black sheep of the Lannister trading family.

“Snow’s looking for you again.” His uncle Euron spat, “Said you’ve captured a pretty merchant princeling. There’s a reward on your head nephew, a big one.” 

Theon took a sip of his rum and determinedly did not look at Robb.

“Oh?” He said lightly, “Well he hasn’t caught me yet, but I’ll make sure to keep an eye out. Thanks for the tip, Uncle.”

Euron’s hand shot out and a knife embedded itself in the wood beside his hand.

“Of course nephew. What is family for?” Euron’s tone did not match his words, “And of course, if family has a nice juicy ransom coming their way then they share it, else shared blood might be forgotten in place of a fat reward.”

Theon gulped; even in a family where most of its members were pirates, Euron was uncommonly ruthless. 

He found himself desperately hoping for a bar fight to break out, for a distraction so he could slip away from the piercing, terrifying gaze of his uncle. 

His prayers were answered when a fight started, one that expanded far too quickly for the original cause to be discerned. The entire bar erupted into a fight, with people who had just been talking happily to one another now smashing bottles and waving blades.

It was glorious.

Theon sent thanks to whoever had answered his wish to be away from such a conversation as his uncle was dragged into the fight when some fool knocked his hat off with a bullet. Undoubtedly there would be a stack of corpses by the time the fight was over but Theon did not care one whit.

He made to join himself but a warm hand clasped itself around his wrist and pulled him out of the tavern into the cool evening air.

“Your wellcome.” Robb said with a a grin, his hand still clasped around Theon’s wrist.

Theon turned to meet his laughing blue eyes, “You started this? You started that fight.”

Robb’s eyes softened, “Aye, you looked like you wanted an escape from that conversation. And if there is one thing my time at Oxford taught me, it’s that drunk men are always up for a fight.”

“Lannister won’t thank you for that.”

Robb shrugged carelessly, “His nephew is soon to become my brother in law, I do not think I need to be too concerned.”

Theon deliberately put that piece of information to one side of his mind, to dwell upon later, instead he took hold of Robb’s hand and started to take him to the next fight free tavern. He was definitely going to make the most of being in Tortuga. 

* * *

Sansa had allowed a sly grin to come to her face when her brother and Theon returned to the ship. The pair of them were incredibly drunk, holding hands, and singing in a terribly off key tune.

They went straight to Theon’s cabin, no hesitation on either of their faces. She knew there was even more alcohol in the cabin, had suggested to Satin that it be placed there herself, enough that hopefully their inhibitions would be loosened even further.

Robb needed to relax a little, and his lustful glances over the Captain had only increased. He was too uptight to do anything about his attraction though, and she hoped that if he was drunk he might finally make a move. 

Sansa would be very disappointed if her brother came stumbling back to their shared cabin that evening


	4. Chapter 4

The sun streaming through the windows was far too bright, Robb thought, and the sounds of men on deck were far too loud. 

His head ached, almost as bad as the time he and Jon had snuck into the cellars of Winterfell and drank wine until they passed out. 

He stretched in bed and froze at the feel of someone next to him. At the feel of bare skin next to him and a wet spot on the bed between them.

Memories of the previous night came back to him all at once, of the skin slick with sweat and the low moans and the harsh kisses and the brilliant, terrible pleasure.

His head throbbed as he moved, but suddenly the pain was beneath his notice, so intent was he on discovering the identity of his companion. On confirming the identity he so greatly suspected.

Sandy hair lay across the pillow, along with a face that had him groaning in irritation. He had slept with his captor. Sansa would never let him hear the end of it.

The Captain, Theon seemed to shift under his gaze, his eyes fluttered open before slamming shut once more.

“Satin,” He groaned, “Turn off the sun. And tell me I didn’t bring a whore on board again.”

Robb smiled, “I have been called many things in my life, but never before have I been called a whore.”

Theon’s eyes shot open and his gaze snapped to Robb’s face.

“Fuck.”

“My sentiments exactly.” Robb cocked his head to one side, “Shall we agree to never speak of this again? As I have no desire to be teased by my sweet sister and I assume you do not wish for your first mate to tease you either.”

Theon groaned and scrubbed a hand down his face, “I think you are right. Satin will be insufferable if I tell him about this. Let’s never speak of this again.”

Robb pushed his way out of the bed and started to search the piles of fabric on the floor, “Can you see my clothes anywhere? I cannot recall where they fell last night.” 

Theon sat up, the covers looking around his waist revealing a smooth chest marked with faint silvery scars and reddened marks that Robb could recall sucking into his smooth skin. He forced his eyes away from the sight as his mouth started to go dry, aware that his reactions were far more visible than usual.

The Captain’s quarters were a mess, with clothing thrown everywhere, making it difficult indeed to find Robb’s own clothing. Unfortunately he could not just steal some of Theon’s clothes, for Sansa would spot such a thing in mere moments, she had always had a keen eye for clothes.

A loud knocking on the door had them both freezing, Robb only had one boot on and his shirt was unlaced, if anyone entered it would be obvious what had occurred. Especially since Theon was still completely naked.

The knocking rang out again, and a voice called out, “Captain? Sir, there’s news.”

Theon’s shoulders noticeably relaxed at the voice, for it must have been one of the men who would not dare to enter his cabin.

“What is it? Why is this news important enough to disturb me?” Theon called back, impatience evident in his tone.

“Captain! Sir, sails on the horizon sir! Black sails on a ship flying a Navy pennant, it’s the  _ Night’s Watch _ Captain, they’ve found us again.” 

* * *

“Release my cousins, Greyjoy.” Jon snarled, his pistol pointed straight at the pirate’s forehead. 

“Your who?” Greyjoy’s fave was twisted with confusion, “No cousins aboard this ship, merely honest pirates.”

“That’s an oxymoron.” Jon shook his head, “You kidnapped my cousins and I want them returned, else it will be worse than the gallows for you.”

“Jon!” The sweet sound of Sansa’s voice echoed from the entrance to the cabins, “How lovely it is to see you! Robb, come quick, Jon is here!”

Jon ran an evaluating eye over his cousin, and was pleased to see she looked healthy and well, in a muslin gown and with what appeared to be a tiara of all things perched upon her head. When he was reassured she was unharmed he turned his attention back to Greyjoy who smiled sheepishly.

“Oh,  those cousins. You should have said Snow.”

Jon snarled again and cocked his pistol ready to fire it. He would rather not kill someone in front of Sansa, but exceptions could be made for the most irritating pirate on the high seas.

“Satin!” Greyjoy called out calmly, and a movement behind Jon had him turning too late.

His arms were wrestled behind his back and shackles placed upon his wrists.

“I wouldn’t do anything stupid if I were you.” Satin Flowers, a man with a bounty almost as big as Greyjoy’s, purred in his ears.

Jon swallowed, Satin Flowers was exceptionally pretty in just the way he liked, and it did things to him to have him so close. He willed himself desperately not to show how much Satin’s close proximity was affecting him and sent a prayer of thanks when Robb emerged to distract him from the sensation of his wrists held firm.

“Jon? What are you doing here?” 

Jon felt like he probably should not roll his eyes at his cousin, but could not help himself. Robb somehow seemed to always ask a stupid question.

“Trying to rescue you of course. When the  _ Grey-wind _ came into port without the pair of you Mormont sent me out to save you.”

“Oh, well.” Robb rubbed the back of his neck, a movement which revealed a red mark on his skin, and smiled sheepishly, “I appreciate the attempt?” 

Jon sighed, “Do either of you actually need rescuing? I mean, Robb you look like you’ve had rather a good time while Sansa is wearing a tiara.” 

Robb’s sheepish smile turned into a sheepish grin, “Well you know how I am, too charming for my own good as mother says. As for the tiara... Sansa why exactly are you wearing a tiara?” 

Sansa shrugged elegantly, “Satin was showing me around the ship earlier and I was complaining because my hair kept falling in my eyes. This was what he found to help me.” 

Jon and Robb exchanged slightly exasperated looks, of course Sansa would manage to charm a pirate into doing her every whim. 

“Satin, take Snow to the brig, let him enjoy our famed hospitality.” Greyjoy said, “Although no tiaras for him, no matter how pretty you think his curls are.”

Jon tried to reach up to touch his hair in confusion, his curls had never been called pretty before, but he forgot that his hands were held behind his back and Satin’s grip only tightened on them.

“Aye captain!” Satin called out, before lowering his voice to speak only in Jon’s ear, “I think you’ll find it a good idea to behave, after all, me finding you pretty won’t save you if you try to cause trouble.”

Jon swallowed heavily as he was led down into the depths of the ship, all too aware of the warmth of another at his back. He knew he should find no pleasure in the grasp upon his wrists and yet he found his trousers tightening all the same.

* * *

Theon was not ashamed to admit that the sight of Sansa Stark in a tiara did things to him. He could hardly keep himself from thinking of how she would look draped in jewels and nothing else, of how gold would glimmer against her creamy skin and how sapphires and emeralds would compliment her hair and eyes. It was a heady thought indeed, one which left him with a dry mouth and tight trousers.

And when such an image was joined by one of Robb Stark dressed the same way, well, it was a miracle he had not torn his trousers, so aroused was he. 

Satin just shook his head at him, but he had no leg to stand on, not after he had disappeared shortly after locking Snow up only to emerge looking very satisfied later. They had reached a truce of sorts, Theon would not mock Satin for his attraction to Snow, and Satin would not mock Theon for his attraction to the Starks.

The fact that Theon had already slept with Robb Stark went unsaid, although he was sure Satin knew. Satin seemed to know everything that went on aboard the _Smiler_.

“There has been more than a few whispers of _The Flaying Dutchman_ recently,” Theon said heavily, dragging himself back to the maps and charts before them, “We need to decide a plan of action for if he catches up to us.”

Satin’s grin smoothed into a solemn expression, “Bolton won’t let us surrender, will he?”

Theon shook his head, “No, he’ll kill most of the crew, and take prisoner those he deems pretty enough. You, me, Miss Stark, most like, the rest though, well they’ll be shark food. And we’ll like as not envy them for it.” 

All blood fled Satin’s face, leaving him pale as death, they had all heard the tales of what Bolton did to those he captured and they made Euron’s antics seem as kind as a mother’s touch.

“So we must fight then, fight or flee.” His voice betrayed only a quiver of fear and Theon found himself so very proud of his First Mate.

“Aye.” Theon rested his palms on the table, “We flee if we can, and if we cannot? Then we fight.” 


	5. Chapter 5

Something had changed in the interactions between Robb and Captain Theon. There was a sort of fragility in their interactions, a sort of hyperactive awareness of the other at all times. 

Sansa smiled to see it, for it meant her plan had worked and the pair had slept together.

The bite mark on Robb’s neck also told her of that, as did those exposed by the deep v-neck of Theon’s shirt.

Sansa did not mind looking upon the chest exposed by such an indecent shirt, it was hardly a crime for her to look even if she was already betrothed.

The longer that Sansa spent with Captain Theon and his crew, the more dissatisfied she was with her betrothed. Theon and Satin at the very least treated her far more courteously than Joffrey had ever done, they listened to her and respected her voice and opinions. It was a terrible thing, to feel safer with pirates than with the man she was supposed to wed. It was a terrible thing, to trust that they would keep to the boundaries she had set instead of groping at her and pushing the boundaries of propriety as Joffrey did.

It certainly did not help that Theon was handsome as well as courteous, what girl would not fall for someone like him.

(Satin was handsome as well, but in a prettier way, a way Sansa knew Jon preferred.)

It was a little strange, Sansa would admit, to be attracted to the same man as her brother; but she had always trusted Robb’s choices. 

She wanted to have the courage to take control for herself, to grasp the opportunities open to her. She wanted the fearlessness to dissolve the betrothal between her and Joffrey, to stand up for herself and say that she didn’t want to be married to a man who would not treat her with the same care and thoughtfulness of a _pirate_.

But the betrothal had been all but arranged from her birth, a perfect way to tie their families together after the failed attempt that had ended up with Aunt Lyanna as a fallen woman, Jon being born, and Robert Baratheon marrying a Lannister instead.

Although there was a thought, if Sansa did something utterly scandalous then the betrothal would have to be called off, lest it ruin Joffrey’s so called ‘good name’.

But what?

What could be so scandalous that the betrothal would be called off? What was terrible enough to be picked up by the gossips, and yet not utterly ruin her reputation?

Sansa’s gaze turned to Robb’s clean clothes, his only clean clothes and grinned wickedly, she had an idea. 

* * *

Jon lent his head against the bars of his cell and tried not to let out a pitiful whimper at the sight before him.

He had thought Satin Flowers pretty before, but with his hair pulled back in elaborate braids that spoke of Sansa’s clever hands, he was simply divine. 

All coherent thought left his head, and he could do nothing but stare longingly. He was probably looking at Satin in a way similar to the way his childhood dog had looked at cheese, but Jon did not care over much.

“You know, you would be a lot prettier if you weren’t in that naval uniform.” Satin said, as he sliced into a bright red apple.

“And you would be prettier if you weren’t a pirate.” Jon said back, his mouth running away with him.

Satin smiled and held a slice of apple through the bars of the brig in offering. It was an offering that Jon eagerly took for even as Captain of his own ship fresh fruit was hard to come by.

“Do you think I had many options other than piracy?” Satin said as Jon ate, “Captain Theon taught me my letters and numbers, before him I worked in a whore house, the same one I grew up in. I probably would have stayed there until a patron gutted me, or I caught some disease, or I grew too old and was thrown to the streets. A life of piracy is better than that.”

Jon knew that desperation turned people to crime, more half the people he arrested were not evil, merely desperate, but it was hard to believe that of someone working for a _Greyjoy_. All Greyjoys were notorious, and normally for the wrong reasons. Even Theon Greyjoy was no exception, the way he had dealt with one of the Freys was infamous for its thorough and almost artistic brutality. 

“Greyjoy saved you?” 

Satin smiled and handed Jon another slice of apple, “Aye, he saved me, let me make something of myself and make my own decisions. What about you? How did you come to join the Navy? From the looks of your cousins you’re from a rich family.”

Jon bit into the apple and thought about how best to answer such a question, “My cousins’ family is rich, yes, but I’m the bastard orphan cousin,” He said softly, “There aren’t many prospects for the orphan child of a fallen woman in polite society, not even one who was lucky enough to be raised by his family instead of an orphanage. The Navy seemed an honourable choice, and my uncle paid the fee that allowed me to start at the level of an officer and pulled some strings so that I would be serving with a family friend when I started so here I am.”

His tale was nowhere near the tragedy of Satin’s, and Jon did understand how lucky he had been growing up. It was still nice though, to look across and see a similar sort of understanding, a shared empathy of feeling like an outsider. 

The moment passed, and Jon let a smile fill his face. He leant forwards and met Satin’s eyes with amusement.

“Tell me, how long has Greyjoy been infatuated with Robb and Sansa?”

Satin’s giggle was answer enough.

* * *

“Sansa!” The unmistakable sound of a brother’s outrage echoed across the decks, “Where are my trousers?”

That sounded like a very promising sentence indeed to Theon, and if he was quick then he might very well be treated to the glorious sight of Robb Stark sans trousers, a sight he had been with too drunk or hungover to appreciate the last time he had been aware of it.

“And where is my shirt as well? You can’t just steal my clothes!”

Theon was definitely going to go and investigate, for the safety of the crew and his hostages of course. Besides, Satin wasn’t around to judge him, _he_ was too busy making eyes at their guest in the brig.

One or two of the other crew members, men he knew had originally come from Asha’s ship, men he knew still reported back to her occasionally with news of him, exchanged knowing looks, but Theon paid them no mind. It would have been stranger if he did not investigate such a thing as Robb Stark’s nakedness, not when he was blatant in his affection for the captured merchant. 

He rushed to the cabin in which he had housed his hostages and knocked on the door as calmly as he could. 

He had to adjust his own trousers carefully so as to make sure that his anticipation of the sight was not blatant. It would not do to be completely uncouth before his hostage slash 

The door creaked open slowly, and a man embarrassed whisper emerged from behind it.

“Sansa?”

“Unfortunately not,” Theon rocked forward on his heels, “But I’m sure I could pull off one of her gowns if I tried.”

The door opened even further and it was like all of Theon’s best dreams had come true at once.

“As good as this?” Robb stood there, bright red filling his cheeks and his voice filled with shame.

He was a vision indeed, the muslin of Sansa’s gown stretched across his broad shoulders, the bodice gaping slightly from his inability to lace it properly. The skirts fanned out, slightly shallow without a petticoat to hold them up and yet-

And yet he had never looked more beautiful to Theon.

His mouth dropped open, and somehow his trousers got even tighter.

“Wha- What happened?” He all but panted, his eyes wide enough to take in every aspect of the vision before him.

“My sweet sister decided to steal my clothes, all of them, and leave me her dresses to wear in their place. I believe she thinks it to be funny.” Robb said sullenly, “She has done it before, but never in so public a setting. I think she may be bored, or punishing me for something.”

“That is a distinct possibility,” Theon agreed, silently mourning that Robb had chosen to wear the muslin instead of the silk, “Did you do something to annoy her deliberately?”

There was a pause as Robb evidently thought over what exactly he might have done to upset his sweet natured sister. And then he blushed.

“I- I might have taken something she wanted.” He muttered, very obviously not meeting Theon’s eyes, “And I may also have spilt rum onto her shawl.”

Theon tried to work out what Robb meant by such words, whether there was a hidden meaning within them, but he could not parse out such a meaning. Instead he laughed good naturedly and clasped a hand onto Robb’s shoulders, taking a moment to savour the feel of firm muscles beneath the muslin.

“You can borrow some of my clothes if you so wish. They might be a little small but I’m sure they will be more comfortable than your sister’s dress.”

Robb managed a weak smile at that, “I would be most grateful, thank you.”

The faint sound of singing echoed down the them from the deck, and somehow Theon just knew that Satin was behind it, especially when he heard the lyrics.

_‘What shall we do with a pining Captain?_

_What shall we do with a pining Captain?_

_What shall we do with a pining Captain?_

_Wooden in the morning_

_Way hay and up it rises_

_Way hay and up it rises_

_Way hay and up it rises_

_Wooden in the morning’_

He turned pleasantly to a blushing Robb, and smiled, “I am going to throw my first mate over the side of the ship.”

Robb smiled back, “I am not quite sure that I blame you, it sounds like your crew are having fun though.”

It did, in fairness, sound like they were having a grand time mocking their Captain, and the lyrics had painted such a pretty blush on Robb’s face that he was almost willing to forgive Satin. 

Almost.

A heated glance aimed his way from under Robb’s eyelashes had him knocked from his thoughts of his revenge though, and dried out his mouth entirely.

“You know, I am quite unsure of which clothes of your would suit me, and I am just as sure that I might require aid in escaping this gown.” Robb purred.

Theon swallowed heavily, “Well, let it never be said that I am an ungracious host, and I think you will find me quite adept at enabling escape from gowns.”

Robb took hold of Theon’s hand and, with an alluring confidence, at red to lead him to Theon’s own cabin.

“Oh, I was quite counting on it, Captain.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> If you liked this and want to chat feel free to find me on tumblr @istaricelebelasse


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